


Equations

by Mildredo



Category: Queer as Folk (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:48:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mildredo/pseuds/Mildredo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who needs to do maths homework when Stuart Jones is sat on your bedroom floor?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equations

It was completely impossible for Vince to do his homework when Stuart was there. Which was almost every evening. He’d lie on his bed, trying to focus his mind on trigonometry or Othello or photosynthesis, but it was pointless when Stuart was sat on the floor doing exactly the same thing. He usually sat cross-legged and leant forward, which would cause Hazel to tell him off and warn that he’d do his back in. Vince only noticed the way in which his white school shirt would tighten over his back, making his slightly jutting vertebrae visible and almost irresistible to touch. The notebook in which Vince was supposed to be solving equations was covered in absent-minded doodles, sketches, song lyrics and definitely no answers. Vince gave up trying and looked over at Stuart. He was sat in his usual way, focused and writing furiously. His ability to work hard and concentrate was one of many things Vince envied about Stuart. Vince always got distracted and most of the time he could barely read two pages of a book before getting bored and going into a dream world.

Vince liked the way that Stuart’s forehead crinkled when he was concentrating, and the way his mouth fell open a little when he was really focused. He liked how Stuart twirled the pen nimbly between his fingers when he wasn’t using it and the mumbles of “fecking fecking feck” under his breath when he was really stuck. Stuart looked older than fourteen. For one of the youngest in the year, he looked like one of the oldest. A small tuft of burgeoning chest hair was beginning to poke out of his shirt where he’d undone it the second they left school, and there was a shadow of stubble around his jaw and top lip. He had smooth muscles in all the right places, confidence up to his eyeballs and he was tall, much taller than Vince. Vince felt like he still had a child’s body compared to Stuart. He had pubes and all that, but he was short and still had a layer of puppy fat over his tummy that he couldn’t shift. As Vince was watching, Stuart ran his tongue across his bottom lip and Vince felt himself harden completely against his will. He let out a sigh of “fuck” and Stuart’s head shot round to look at him.

“You alright?”

Vince could feel himself blushing and became suddenly aware that his hard on was probably incredibly visible from Stuart’s perspective.

“Yeah, um, question fifteen, can’t work it out.”

Stuart smiled and shook his head, closing his notebook. He stood up and walked around the bed to lie in the space next to Vince. Vince watched him the entire time and Stuart’s eyes didn’t leave his. Stuart moved ever closer to Vince, his eyes dark and his breathing heavier than usual. Inches from his face, Stuart stopped.

“There are only twelve questions, Vince.” His voice was low and husky, and it came out in little more than a whisper. The feeling of Stuart’s breath on his face made Vince’s heart beat so fast that he would’ve been convinced he was having a heart attack if he’d been able to think about anything other than how much he wished Stuart wouldn’t tease him like this. Stuart moved his head back and that was it, Vince thought, another months wanking material. But Stuart didn’t move away, he just flicked his eyes down to Vince’s crotch, where he was now straining against his school trousers. Vince was certain that Stuart was going to move away and laugh at him, call him a sad bastard and hold it over him forever. He even closed his eyes to make it easier. It might hurt less if he couldn’t see the mocking glee on his friend’s face.

Instead of moving away, he felt Stuart shift. There was warm breath on his lips again and if Vince had opened his eyes, he would’ve seen the most sincere, enchanted expression ever to cross the face of Stuart Alan Jones. But still Vince told himself that nothing was going to happen, that it was all a sick joke and he would absolutely not speak to Stuart again after this behaviour. Stuart closed the gap between them and all of a sudden they were kissing. Vince was so taken aback that it took him a moment to remember that he had to move his mouth in order for the Stuart kissing to continue. A few minutes into the kiss, Vince had decided once and for all that this was not a dream and that he should make the most of it. A hand ran up and over his thigh and Vince shuddered as Stuart began to lightly stroke his hard on through his trousers. He gave an involuntary moan of approval and bucked even more involuntarily upwards, which was all the encouragement Stuart needed. His fingers were quickly working their way in, deftly undoing the zip and button one-handed and dipping quickly under the waistband of Vince’s boxers. Skin on hot skin, Stuart’s hand worked slowly and Vince had to use all of the strength and willpower he possessed not to come right there and then. He didn’t want to embarrass himself almost as much as he didn’t want this dream to end. Neither of them heard the front door go or the call of “boys, I’m home!”, they were too caught up in the moment, in each other. Just as it was becoming almost too much and Vince knew he couldn’t hold on much longer, the bedroom door opened.

“Oh, shit! Fuck, sorry...”

Stuart and Vince sprang apart and Vince began hastily trying to stuff himself back into his trousers. Hazel shut the door as quickly as she’d opened it and ran downstairs. Vince leapt off the bed, zipped his fly and gathered Stuart’s school stuff from the floor. Stuart got off the bed and stood, watching Vince’s frenzy.

“You need to go.” Vince pushed Stuart’s stuff into his arms. He was panicking and flushed.

“Vince, wait.”

“No! That was my mother, Stuart. My _mother_ just walked in on... that and I’m going to have to go down there and face her and it’s going to be fucking awkward enough without you there making it worse with your... with your face.”

“My face?” Stuart laughed.

“Just fuck off!” Vince almost-shouted, his voice a bit too loud. He knew Hazel definitely would’ve heard that, and the neighbours probably did too. Thin walls. Stuart took a deep shuddering breath and for a moment, Vince thought that Stuart looked sad, almost like he was trying not to cry.

“Alright. I’ll... I’ll see you around.” Stuart locked his eyes with Vince’s.

“Yeah. I’ll see you around.” Stuart turned and left. Vince stood still, unable to move, listening. The front door clicked shut and Stuart was gone. Out of his room, out of his house, out of his life. His best friend was gone and he wasn’t stupid, he knew that they couldn’t go back after that. Vince could still taste Stuart on his lips and his groin was aching with a lack of satisfaction. He’d fucked everything up for one stupid moment with Stuart. His mother had walked in on him getting a handjob from the friend he’d subsequently told to fuck off. And he still hadn’t finished those fucking equations. He was now Stuartless and destined to spend the next day in detention. He threw himself face down on the bed and resolved to stay that way as long as possible, ignoring the world and the fact that the sheets still smelt like Stuart.

Stuart stopped running at the bus stop. He didn’t want to get a bus, but there was no one else there and there was a bench to sit on. He was out of breath and could feel the beginnings of a stitch in his side. Running wasn’t his strongest point, especially not flat out like he had been. He collapsed onto the bench and tried to catch his breath. He didn’t know what to do now. He couldn’t go back to Vince’s, he couldn’t go home yet because his parents thought he was having dinner at Vince’s and they’d be suspicious, and he didn’t know Manchester well enough yet to not get lost. He’d blown it. His one chance to let Vince know how he felt and he’d blown it. Never again. Sat on that bench, Stuart swore that he would never let himself have feelings like that for someone again. Shag them, kick them out, never see them again. That sounded like a better plan. Easy, no bollocks. He’d become the most notorious shagger in the whole damn city. There’d be rumours, legends, and only he’d know if they were true – and of course they would be. He’d be respected, revered. He’d be king. Yeah, that sounded better than having feelings involved, better than loving someone. Loving Vince. Love could fuck off.


End file.
